A/N: This chapter has undergone minor revisions since the release of the final chapter of this story. Keep in mind, revised chapters may be inconsistent with reviews and the author's notes of unrevised chapters.

Mid Year 5, 4E1

It was now 9:00pm, probably the best time to enter Baelin's house, but I felt so comfortable where I was sitting, entranced by the simple entertainment provided. Not the band; the musicians were talented, but that talent seemed to go to waste as they played and sung songs that didn't seem to capture any particular mood. It was the fire. The way it gracefully jumped, the way it disassembled the wood on a micro-level, the warmth it gave me during the chilly night, and in my state, sleepy from the journey and wine, it seemed to be melded into my thoughts; the vision flowing like day-dreams, not seeming tangible. Purely on willpower, however, I withdrew myself, and knew I should get my gear and head to Baelin's house right away. I wasn't hungry, and this was no time for a drink.

I headed down the stairs to my room, trying to prevent gravity from getting the better of me as I descended the steep steps. I stuck my key in the lock, twisted it, and opened the door. The room was quite nice; the bed's quilt was soft, smooth, and decorated. I was provided with a desk and table, plus two chairs. My bag of supplies had been placed on the table.

Most of its contents were simply comforts for my journey and stay. There were only three items I might have use of on this assignment: the armor, lockpicks, and a dagger. I knew I'd take the dagger, though if all went as it was supposed to I wasn't going to use it. It picked it up, briefly enjoying the feeling of power it gave me, then attached its sheath to my side. Taking the armor was debatable. I would no doubt arouse suspicion if I was seen leaving the Inn in black armor minutes before Baelin was killed, but it would be useful for both stealth and protection once I got inside. At first I reasoned I could use my Shadow power to sneak out, so suspicion wouldn't be an issue. The down side would be that I couldn't use my gift in Baelin's house then, because I'd need a good night's sleep to recharge myself.

I prepared to juxtapose the two options and decide which had greater benefits in a mathematical fashion when I realized there was no way to leave this Inn undetected. Even if I was invisible, a door opening with no one to be seen would be suspicious too.

I disregarded the armor, and instead picked up two lock-picks and stuffed them in my pocket. I now felt a good deal more lucid than before as the thrill began to sink in, making my body and mind feel hearty and crisp. I could feel an unexplainable activity in every part of my body as I began my walk toward Baelin's house.

I exited my room, making extra sure to lock the door. I had put my dagger on my left-side, despite being right handed, so the publican wouldn't notice. I knew not to give anyone any suspicion to latch unto.

I opened the doors to the city and was assaulted by a painfully cold breeze that seemed to pass through my clothing. It wasn't like Leyawiin or Gideon; there wasn't enough humidity to hold the heat through the night. The whole town was shaded in darkness, except for lights near the gates and other parts of the city. I remembered where Baelin's house was, looked at my compass, and began heading North-West. The city was almost silent, other than the crackling of the larger outdoor fires. Visually, there was little activity as well. However, temperatures around me were enough to get my attention.

I hugged myself in the cold night air. I saw a few people exiting other Inns and Taverns as I walked, but other than that there was very little activity. Most of Bruma's citizens were in their own isolated little worlds in the comforts of their own home at the moment. This made the city an assassin's playground, with so many shadowy nooks I could use, in my own artistic manner, to my advantage.

I analyzed as much I could as I continued to walk towards the North-West corner, the richer section, of Bruma. None of the houses had windows, and that was probably for the better. The shops were all closed. Those who were not inside were probably at a tavern or inn. This was a time of relaxation for Bruma. It stood to reason, given the time frame my contract could be carried out in.

I came across Baelin's house. Before I did anything else, I tried to get some readings of where Gromm and Baelin were in the house. Heeding the words of the Manual of Spellcraft, I tried to clear my mind of all thought, except for a strong faith I could carry out the spell. The world became a jumble of sensation as I pushed the logical strings in my mind away, blurring all mental lines, only telling myself I could do this, and stopping further thought on the subject. Two oddly colored blobs appeared in my field of view, like the lights you see after looking directly into the sun.

I allowed rationality to enter my mind once again, and, using the memory of the moment of "temporary insanity" as Arch-magister gra-Kogg called it, analyzed exactly where the two of them were and what they were doing. Baelin and Gromm, which ever one was which, were both on ground level, and seemingly too close to enter through the front door. I dearly hoped for another way. If there wasn't, I would just wait for him to go to sleep and slay him then. I needed to scan around the walls of the house.

I became aware of how suspicious I would look if I went into the backyard, if you could even call it that, of this man's house. With this awareness came a feeling of another presence pressing its gaze upon me. I pushed magicka into my eyes to check the shadows for any observers. Looking around, however, I saw this presence had been nothing but my own imagination. I walked around the side of his house. The houses in Skyrim were laid-out in a fairly unsynchronized manner, so the walls of Baelin's house weren't parallel to that of his neighbors. By the time I came to the corner, I had to make a tight squeeze.

There was a promising sight: A door to a wine cellar. A small bit of happiness came over me. Not only did I have a back entrance, but I was safe, secure, and comfortable to pick a lock in this secluded area behind Baelin's house.

I took a pick out my pocket and jammed it in the keyhole, manipulating its inner-workings until I heard a satisfying click, then lifted open the heavy cellar door. I made sure it gently arrived at the ground, keeping my hands on it until the handle sunk into the ground.

As I entered, I saw it was indeed a cellar, but not a wine cellar as I'd presumed. Though there were a few alcoholic beverages here and there, there were no racks of wine. In fact, there was quite variety of furniture, but the inelegance of its floor and walls implied it would still be used like any other basement. I could see a set of stairs ahead, which went only a small distance up before turning a corner. The good thing about this room was that stone, of course, wouldn't creak when I stepped on it, but I still wondered how audible I was. I couldn't even take an educated guess, given that I almost never snuck around in anywhere like this in Argonia. Most of the time I was sneaking through the wilderness, ambushing some feisty tribal chief or something a long those lines. Even the few missions that took place inside the walls of Gideon weren't like this, as the construction of the buildings there was drastically different. It was especially hard to imagine what indications of my presence Baelin could pick up given that he was in a relaxed state. Ocheeva's words came back to me as I considered possible sources of failure, her sentence perfectly recorded in my mind, associated with a fuzzy picture of the moment she had made the suggestion.

I ascended the stair case, turned the corner, and saw a wooden door. I knew what an obstacle this could be. It looked heavy, and seemed bound to creak. Again, however, much to my frustration, I couldn't really gauge its audibility. I tried to put myself in Baelin's mindset, but it seemed to require me to stress my mind greatly. Was I so desperate for an answer that I couldn't guarantee accuracy? I wasn't sure, but I felt like tearing myself to pieces for my current incompetence. This was my first contract with a set of parameters, and I was extra zealous about it given the fact that I was an ambassador for the Shadowscales in a way, and had that jerk M'raaj-Dar to prove wrong.

There was, of course, no rush to open the door, so I decided to try to get some readings again. My mind clearing quickly, two colored blobs once again emerged into my field of view. As soon as what I was seeing gained a firm meaning in my mind, they disappeared, but I could see neither of them had moved since my first check.

I stuck the pick into the lock, knowing a suspenseful moment would follow. The tensity of the situation seemed to wrap itself tightly around me. When it finally clicked, I knew the creakiness of the door could mean the difference between success and simple completion.

I slowly pushed the door open, feeling excitement brewing beneath the surface of my hand , and the slightest ache on the arm that did it. I had pushed it about 30 degrees before it made a creaking sound. I felt an odd, and unpleasant tingling sensation on the top half of my head as I realized how I'd lowered my chances of the success. None the less, it was too late to turn back, and I continued to push the door open another 30 degrees, so I could get through. My body now tingling all over, the suspense and importance of the situation grabbing me tightly. Fortunately, the first area I saw was shadowy. Unfortunately, I could hear some talking.

"Gromm, did you hear that?" Someone inquired.

"Yeah, I'll go get it sorted out." A deeper voice said confidently, his steps in rapid, unhesitant succession.

I crept into the shadows, and then froze as Gromm got closer. I didn't dare move, even turn my head. I just did my best to imagine what he was seeing. His footsteps had stopped. I heard the door I'd come in close. More footsteps, but they sounded like they were going in the opposite direction. I still didn't dare move, except quiver ever so slightly. I tried to pour over the sounds I heard, knowing what a role they'd play in my fate. Ache built up in my awkwardly positioned muscles very quickly.

I heard something being picked up. I commanded myself to turn invisible. It was clearly a smart decision, as I saw candle light pour into the shadowy corner, stingy my eyes which were under the influence of the "night-eye" spell and causing the ground nearby to become nothing but white light. I still dared not move, I just tried to imagine what the man was doing, waiting for some other sensory input. He took a step forward, and something changed in the corner of my eyes. I could see a fuzzy image of a few colors, different shades of brown, but that was it.

"Weird," he mumbled to himself, as the shadowy nook was now fully illuminated, but he didn't see me.

"Gromm?" Baelin inquired, "What's going on in there?"

"Whoever it was took off." Gromm replied, his voice deep. Unlike so many others in Bruma, though, both their voices sounded fully Cyrodillic in accent "And don't come back!" He thundered later, causing me to jerk slightly. As the implications of what could have happened settled on me, I felt the same unpleasant tingling. That jerking could have caused my invisibility to fail. But I looked down and discovered, thank Sithis, the movement was small enough to not shake the magical charge. Gromm then turned around to go back to his original tasks. I slowly and carefully turned my head to see the two of them.

Both human, Baenlin was sitting in a cushioned chair, next to a crackling fire, with a beer mug by his side and a book in his hand. Gromm seemed to be making something in the kitchen, but was armed and armored.

I tried to work the implications all that had just happened into some kind of equation. It was a crude method of decision making, but the most effective way of thinking about it I could come up with. I reasoned if I couldn't be seen while I stood still in the light, I probably couldn't be seen while I moved in the dark, as both advantages were cancelled out with a disadvantage.

I began stepping forward, grateful that the floor didn't creak. The next obstacle was a set of stairs which, from my experience, were always the creakiest part of the house. In fact, I figured it might be better avoid them altogether. I reasoned I could grab the edge of the upper floor, pull myself up, and slide under the railings. I pressed my tail against my right leg for precautions.

I pulled myself up, straining my muscles briefly. I then clawed the rest of my body up, having established an almost unexplainable grip on the upper floor. Once that was done, I went from my prone position to hands and knees, then stood up fully.

I was in a bed room now, a rather nice one. It reminded me of that which I had at the Jerall View. I could also see a promising entrance to a crawl space.

I stretched my right foot slightly so it would land on the carpet instead of the wood, then took a brief moment to regain my balance which had been disrupted by the large step, and took another step towards the crawlspace.

I wrapped my fingers around the handle of the crawlspace door, and pulled the door to the right. Of course, I wasn't pulling completely in that direction in, so it wasn't a perfectly smooth motion. The door got stuck a couple of times, but I did not simply pull harder, in fear of building up force that could cause noise, but instead tried to pull with equal force at a slightly different angle. As soon as the opening was big enough to squeeze through, I entered.

The crawlspace was, of course, not as prepped for human travel as the rest of the house. The wood below was not smooth and polished, but I could see the fastenings. I was so close to completing the mission that I was beginning to get a feel for the kind of force this falling head would carry, and the damage it would do. A feeling of excitement came over me as each of my footsteps landed softly, bringing me closer to the mission's climax.

I played around with the fascinings, though more randomly than methodically, until I could feel them loosening. When they came undone, it registered in my mind the power that little movement I made could cause. I released my grip, bracing myself for a loud noise.

Below I heard a loud crashing. I had passed the test, and sealed the completion of my mission, I realized with a second of relief. I hadn't even begun to think of my escape, but going back the way I came in seemed easy enough.